Bedridden
by Love Is BeastN
Summary: Yuri is sick with a potentially fatal illness that presses his ability to remain king to the limit. Meanwhile, Saralegui is stirring up trouble. Hints of Yuuram.
1. Chapter 1

**Bedridden**

**Chapter 1:**

There is a word one would use to describe the condition at the castle: mayhem.

Maids scurried every which way in a panic-stricken frenzy and those close to the distinguished individual by whom this furor was induced paced relentlessly, unbounded anxiety weighing down their mirth. News of this overblown misfortune spread throughout the castle city like untended wildfires and, like any rumor many times retold and passed along by a multitude of plebian, the supposed actuality of the situation was blown way out of proportion. Some even to go as far as to say that someone was dying.

What was happening?

The 27th Maou of the Great Demon Kingdom, the king of great double black who had countless times brought profuse tranquility to many nations in this second world of his… was sick.

Inside the royal chamber, a most trusted doctor examined the bedridden adolescent.

Yuri Shibuya sat on the regal sheets, having no more to do with the, to him, bothersome doctor than merely cooperate—if only to shut his handlers up. After a series of strange, and unwanted, procedures, the examination was over. Naturally, Wolfram was the first inquiring person in the room.

"So? What's wrong with him," he demanded.

"Maoukowsu Kais," Gisela said gravely, yet unsurprised.

Yuri gave no regard to the unfamiliar disease, it was probably just another name for a cold. Yet, he couldn't shake the woeful gasps from his comrades.

Günter popped his head into the door. "Did I hear correctly, Maoukowsu Kais?" he asked. A wide smile took to his face. "Oh, splendid!"

"Von Christ, have you forgotten that it is fatal?" Wolfram growled.

"F-Fatal?" Yuri's eyes bugged out.

"Ah, only if His Majesty cannot pass the tests," Günter shot back cheerily.

"Test?" Yuri was growing more and more panicky.

"Now, now. Do you hold such little faith in your fiancé, Wolfram?" The violet-eyed man shook his head daintily and tsk'ed.

"Of course not! I believe in Yuri!" Wolfram was furious. Well, he believed in his ability to withstand challenges such as these, but he wouldn't gamble on the fickle king if it came down to the terms of their engagement.

Yuri yelled above the two, "What is it?!"

Günter flashed him a smile. "Maoukowsu Kais is an illness that every Maou gets sooner or later, but it isn't like a normal disease. It is a test of your willpower, strength, and loyalty."

"Basically, it's test to see if you're a good king," Conrart chipped in.

Nodding, the Maou's advisor continued, "And, as Wolfram said, if you fail, you die."

Yuri sat quietly, taking it all in. "What kind of test?"

Wolfram shrugged, "Dunno. Each set of trials are unique to the current king."

"Or queen!" came a defiant voice from somewhere.

Wolfram deadpanned in thorough displeasure.

Lady Cicilie spun into the room and glomped the young Maou, pressing her lady hoods in his face. "Oh~! You've finally got it! I knew it was just a mater of time."

Fearing that Wolfram was going to incinerate the room, Yuri loosened her grip and pushed her away. "So you've had it, too?"

"Of course," she winked.

He exhaled a sigh of relief and sunk into his pillows. "So it's easy."

Cicilie laughed, "Why heavens no! It's hard as crap! I was about to just give up and die!"

Yuri flushed.

"Mother!"

"But of course these guys," she shrugged towards her sons and Günter, "wouldn't let me. I was lucky to have their help."

Yuri's eyes lit up. "You mean I don't have to do it alone?"

"Nope! Well, some of it you do, but for the most part you can have help."

The double black sagged in relief. "What kind of tests have some Maous had?"

"Well, this one had a dragon pestering him for months. Finally he just had to knock it out and send it to a protected reserve," Günter said.

"And another's skin changed color and grew boils. He was in so much pain, and he looked like a frog!"

"Remember the one who had octopus tentacles come out of his belly button? They nearly choked him to death!"

"There have been a few Maous through history that we didn't like and let die," Gwendle, who had remained silent until now, said casually.

"Paralyses."

"Memory loss."

"Poisoning."

It didn't get any better, and Yuri didn't regain consciousness for another few hours.

"Hey, you awake?" Wolfram looked over at him from where he sat at the end of the bed as Yuri's eyelids flitted open.

Yuri looked around the otherwise empty room. He asked after a minute, "Where is everyone?'

"They went to make preparations," he murmured, though he was sure Conrart still lingered just outside the door.

Yuri sighed and propped himself up on his elbow. So this really was a big deal for the Mazoku. He wondered why. He was nervous, despite his best efforts. He had little doubt that he could overcome the challenge of the sickness itself, he had dealt with greater and more demanding tasks like the Soushu. Although, he had just barely dodged death then, and many times since. He was only human—well, half human at least.

"I know what a hard time Mother had with this, so please be careful. I was so afraid of losing Mother. She was going to give up, she wanted to die, it was just too hard for her. Yuri," he gazed at him intently with clear emerald eyes brimming with emotion, "I don't want to lose you. None of us do. We believe in you and we're here for you."

Yuri was startled by his abnormal behavior. Since when did Wolfram ever care that much whether he was okay? What, between throwing fireballs at him and his various murder attempts for his being "unfaithful." In Yuri's opinion, this affectionate character he was showing did not suite him. Either way, he smiled graciously and accepted the offer.

Suddenly, immense pain shot through him that made him crimp in anguish, clutching his stomach and almost screaming. That is, he would be screaming if he could find the air to. His breath came in short little gasps as he struggled for each labored breath.

"Yuri!" Wolfram jumped up in alarm. "Conrart!" he called unnecessarily, for the half-Mazoku was already rushing into the room. Wolfram saw Dacauscas sprinting down the hall. "Is this?"

"Yeah," Conrart answered, flustered, unable to do anything for his king.

Gisela arrived after a few minutes and observed as Yuri coughed up blood and some sort of slimy crawling thing that changed into a myriad of colors before it exploded. A few cramps and a nosebleed later, it was over and Yuri collapsed wearily.

"Can't you do anything?" Wolfram asked.

She contemplated for a moment, then said, "I can give him a regular treatment, but it won't do much good."

"It won't do any bad either." Wolfram scowled and turned his attention back to Yuri's peaked figure.

The door opened and Günter stepped into the royal chamber and proclaimed:

"We have just received white pigeon mail from Small Shimaron. King Saralegui has announced his departure; he will be arriving in Shin Makoku tomorrow."

* * *

**I came up with the name Maoukowsu Kais by trying to combine "Maou" and "case" (my spelling: "kais") like in a case of the (i.e.) flu. But coincidentally, a "kaiser" is a ruler, like in the Great Roman Empire, so it turned out better than I thought. :)**

**Anyway, was it any good? Should I continue it? **


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2:**

"Sara's coming?" Yuri beamed.

"Yes. Now go to sleep." Wolfram pushed him down.

"Why?"

"Who knows," the blonde said despite of himself. He, too, wanted to know Small Shimaron's king's reason for coming to Shin Makoku, and why now? Why so suddenly? There's no way he could know of Yuri's illness so soon.

"His letter didn't say," Günter explained.

"When will he get here?"

"This evening.'

Yuri smiled his satisfaction and leaned against the beautifully hand-carved wooden backboard of his canopied bed. He had been dreading the next few weeks, or however long this wretched disease would last. At least now he had the company of a less seen friend to look forward to.

Wolfram was about to comment on that too happy smile when a pile of soiled linens were dumped into his arms, and he cringed in disgust.

"Make yourself useful. Take these away," Gisela snapped at him, also throwing some work Günter's way. Gwendle had the sense to get out of there before he, too, was spotted.

"What? This is maids' work!" Wolfram bellowed. "I could never do something so demeaning!"

Gisela turned an evil eye on him and he did not miss the glint in them. There was no time to run. Within minutes she had him and Günter both stripped and sporting new clothes. If Wolfram was embarrassed before, oh, he was devastated now! He now adorned a frilly pink maid's dress with a high cut laced collar. The bicep part of the sleeve was puffed, but past the elbow it was skin-tight. The flushed blonde worked desperately to pull the short, voile dress down past his thin, naked thighs.

"Why me, too?" Günter whined, glancing down at his lavender dress. Everyone in the room noticed how frighteningly comfortable he looked in it.

"Quiet! Now," she threw the linens back to Wolfram and pushed him out the door, "get to it!"

He muttered his disconcert as he walked down the hallway, holding the filthy bed sheets well in front of him. He saw the actual maids round the corner but there was no place to hide. So he walked straight forward, doing his best to keep his head up and mask the obvious vexation so clearly written on his face. He considered handing the job off to them; then he considered the punishment he would receive from Gisela. It was too risky. So he walked on as if he still held an iota of dignity left in him. That is, until he stepped around the corner and nearly fell to pieces. He'd never been so humiliated in his life!

He had thought too soon.

He looked up at the sound of approaching footsteps to see seven of the ten members of the ruling council staring at him. The looks on their faces were that of shock and disapproval; or, like Lord van Wincott's and Lord von Karbelnikoff's, trying to contain a grin. As if they found this amusing!¾Wolfram realized in horror. A small blush of embarrassment, or maybe it was anger, warmed his already reddened face as he straightened his legs.

"L-Lord von Bielefelt…" von Radfort greeted him as formally as he could manage.

Wolfram's chagrined uncle looked as if he was about the explode at any moment. His face was even more red than Wolfram, but with unmistakable anger. "Wolfram. What. Is. The. Meaning. Of. This?" he demanded, making each word a syllable.

"W-Well¾"

"Well?!"

Lord von Spitzweg stepped in, putting his nose where it undoubtedly didn't belong and for the wrong reasons. "I think everyone should have the freedom to choose his or her on personal tastes¾"

"Shut-up!" ordered more than one perturbed voice.

Wolfram responded to Stitzweg comment furiously, "Please! Do you _actually_ think I would choose to wear this thing?"

"Enlighten us, then," Waltorana shot back.

He hesitated; he couldn't tell them he was overpowered by the healer of all people. What few shreds of his pride he left wouldn't allow it, and they were dwindling fast.

Luckily, he didn't have to, for Gwendle picked that moment to drop by. He walked up from behind his younger brother and greeted the ruling council with perfect suavity, seeming oblivious the tense scene unfolding here. "Welcome. It's nice that you all made it here safely."

"Thanks," someone thought to say.

"Are you going to stand around here all day or would you like to retire to your rooms to freshen up?" Gwendle suggested casually.

After a few seconds, Watorana said at length, "Yes…" With one final sneer at his nephew, he turned on his heels and stalked away in the opposite direction. The remaining nobels lingered until they departed as well.

"Thanks for that…" Wolfram muttered.

Gwendle ignored his averse gratitude, "Go back to what you were doing."

He just remembered the filthy sheets. "But!"

"No buts." Gwendle gave him a warning glare. Wolfram pressed his lips into a tight line and stomped off. He was sure his brother would take up for him and relieve him of the grotesque chore.

Upon arriving at the castle's laundry room, he nearly turned around and walked back out.

"Wolfram!" a half naked man sang delightedly, rising from where he crouched at a wash basin and putting him in a vice-like embrace. He cooed again in that annoying singsong, effeminate voice, "I didn't know you were into drag! We're more alike than I thought!"

Wolfram pushed the redhead away, threatening him with an angry ball of fire he held between them, its ruby tongues whipping around aggressively. He was already in a foul mood, and this okama wasn't helping.

"Don't even put me in the same class as you, simpleton!" Wolfram spat.

Yozak backed away with his hands up, grinning playfully. His voice was back to its normal, gruff tone, "Fine, fine. Don't go burning the castle down." When the fireballs diminished he dropped down and went back to what he was doing; scrubbing a lacy little g-string relentlessly. Wolfram pretended not to see the little piece of cloth.

"Why are you here?" he asked, discarding the bed sheets into an empty basket. Gisela had only told him to take them away, not to wash them. Anyhow, he figured he was far enough away that she wouldn't find out.

"Unlike _some_ people, I don't have maids waiting around to wash my clothes and do chores for me. Anyway, I should be asking _you _that. I didn't think Little Lord Brat would dare step foot into the paltry servants' domain. ."

"Gisela sent me to bring that here."

"And the dress?"

Another glare and Wolfram turned and walked away. He took the less traveled hallways to his room where he took the dress off and quickly dressed in his usual blue uniform, thankful to have finally replaced the humiliating thing with something more dignifying.

Making his way to Yuri's room, he kept his head down slightly, his pride not fully restored upon the change of clothes. He couldn't believe his uncle had saw him in such a thing! Moreover, doing a maids' foul work with no explanation why! Surely he thought it a sully to the family name and furious at having been embarrassed in front of the other nobles. Wolfram blanched at the thought, and hearing the maids' giggling and sad oh's did nothing to consol him.

When he reached his fiancé's room he found that Yuri was awake. He was surprised to see the look of disappointment on the Demon King's face upon seeing him. Wolfram decided to ignore it and took a seat in the chair next to the bed.

"I heard from Conrad that the Nobles are here. I wonder why," Yuri mused aloud.

Wolfram stiffened. How fast news spread around here! He only wondered how quickly and how far his little "cross-dressing" incident had gotten around. He just shrugged.

Yuri didn't come short of noticing Wolfram's change of posture. What was bugging him? "Why did you take the dress off so soon? I was amazed at how cute you looked in it." _I just hope I'm not throwing gas on the fire… _Yuri thought warily.

Again, the blonde's cheeks lit up. He turned away quickly to hide it, crossing his arms. He went off with something along the lines of why wouldn't he look cute in it and why would that surprise him, the insults flying.

"Sheesh, forget I said anything," Yuri grumbled irritably.

Wolfram shot a flushed glance at ihm before looking away again and mumbling, "Wimp."

The door creaked open slowly and a meek Dacauscas peeked in. "Um… Sir Wolfram… there seems to be some… guests here for you." He pushed to door open to reveal a whole horde of excited women (and men) all wearing maid dresses.

One girl stepped forward and said eagerly, "O Wolfram, we fully support your love of women's clothing. We're here for you till the end!" It was a fan club….

And thus, Wolfram's humiliation was complete.

* * *

**Well, there you have it; four pages of hardly anything that contributes to the plot whatsoever. This chapter was supposed to be light and humorous before I get into the dramatic stuff. (What? That wasn't dramatic? No, it was more stupidity than anything.)**

**Sorry it took so long to update. I have so much homework since we've missed a lot of school due to weather lately.**

**Please review! =D**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"Shall we begin the meeting immediately?" Gwendle asked, thinking it best to get this over with while the maou was still in any condition to be seriously discussing the well-being of his country.

Yuri placed his feet on the floor and shifted his weight to his legs slowly, shaking. They felt like Jello from not using them for a day. He immediately decided to not do that again. "Yeah."

"I'll go inform the nobles to meet in the room of the circle table." Yuri's stomach churned nauseatingly at just the thought of that table from hell.

"How about we just use the conference table? The long one," he suggested. Gwendle nodded once and walked out.

Conrart moved to help his king when he saw him struggling to keep his balance, but Yuri waved him away. He wanted to do it on his own. Eventually, he made it to the meeting and took his place at the head of the table. He looked around at everyone present, going around the table, struggling to remember their names. As usual, Lord von Grantz was not present, and Yuri vaguely wondered what his reason was this time. Lord von Wincot(wondering why he was here), Lord von Karblenikoff(daydreaming), Lord von Spitzweg(staring at Yuri, thinking of ways to suck up to him), Lord von Bielefelt(looking extremely indignant), Lady von Rochefort(wondering why Spitzweg was staring at Yuri), Lord von Radford(wondering why Rochefort was staring at Spitzweg, and why Spitzweg was staring at Yuri), and Gwendle(not looking at anybody). But no one wondered why every kept glancing toward Lord von Christ. Yuri stopped his inspection when his gaze fell upon Günter. He deadpanned but didn't say anything., he was sure somebody else had already anyway. Walterona refused to look at the purple-haired man while Karblenikoff took to staring at him. He was still wearing the dress.

"Okay... um. I call this meeting of the Ten Nobles to order," Yuri announced.

When no one responded, Gwendle took over. "Lord von Bielefelt, how about you start by telling us why you called this gathering?"

Walterona stood and without hesitation declared, "I think it is in the best interest of the country if we appoint a temporary ruler while the maou is sick."

There was a moment when no one spoke, then a few hushed murmurs broke out. Gwendle raised a hand to silence them. "Sir Bielefelt, we have never appointed a substitute for king before. State your reasoning why we should now."

Without batting an eye, he said, "I have heard that Big Shimaron is planning an attack on Shin Makoku."

"Rumors, then."

Walterona's gaze hardened to the point of glaring. "My most trusted lieutenant informed me that he heard a few merchants from Big Shimaron talking about it in hushed voices. In addition, a patrol party has confirmed the preparations."

"And you believe these soldiers?"

"Of course."

"Lord von Radford, your land also borders Big Shimaron's shore. Have your men seen any evidence to support this?" Gwendle asked. Radford adjusted his glasses and stroked his stubble of a gray beard., as if trying to remember. Then he shook his head. Gwendle looked to the other nobles for a confirmation to von Bielefelt's claims but got none. "Then that's that. Your soldier's stories are conceited."

Yuri glowered at him in disbelief. How could he just shrug something like that away? And why was he being so cold toward his half-uncle? "I think that it's a good idea." Everyone turned to look at him. "The substitute, why not if Big Shimaron are up are up to something?"

"Didn't you hear what I just said? There is no basis for his claims except for the word of a few soldiers and merchants."

"So? That doesn't mean anything. They definitely saw something."

"I agree. We should not take such a potential threat so lightly." For once von Spitzweg's brown nosing made sense.

Gwendle's face was forever stoic. "Even so, who would be fit enough for such a job?" He faltered when everyone looked at him expectantly. "I refuse."

"Hhhmmmm... Then how about Wolfram?"

Silence.

Hysteric laughter.

"What?" Yuri growled. "Why not? He knows how to lead just as well as I do."

"That says a lot..." someone muttered sarcastically.

Yuri glared. "Anyway, as a demon prince, and my fiancé"—he paused before he said that, but it aided his side of the argument—"he has every right to be in my stead."

"Temporarily."

"Right." He looked around at the grim expressions and began to wonder if he had made the right decision.

Von Spitzweg cleared his throat. "Yes, that may be so, but... Lord Wolfram _does _have a bit of a temper." He searched for the appropriate words.

Yuri's jaw dropped. Even the suck-up-Spitzweg wouldn't agree with him? He composed himself and mustered up a determined look. "If I die, he'll succeed me anyway."

...

"Very well," Gwendle said with finality, standing.

"What?" Blank stares. "It is perfectly legit. We have no choice but to obey the maou's orders." Normally, Yuri would have argued that last part, but he let it slide. He glanced toward Walterona. He was sure that the pompous man would boast his nephew into that position, yet he had sat there quietly with that same scornful glower on his face.

"Where is Little Lord Brat, anyway?" Günter, who had remained silent so far, asked.

"Oh, he got kidnapped," Yuri said. The mood in the room lightened to that of hopeful glee. Wolfram's fan club had dragged him away to some unknown location.

"Uhm... Sire?" Karblenikoff stuttered and pointed to his king's hand.

"What—Agh!" Yuri stared at his hands. They were purple! He just now felt the tingling that felt like a million tiny needles pricking his skin in the sensation of lost circulation. Günter let out a shrill squeak and fell out of his chair while Conrart rushed to his side but immediately backed up to avoid Yuri's violent shaking of his numb hands. Needless to say, he was excused from the meeting.

When their prestigious king was gone, the still assembled nobles sat in silence, contemplating the issues dealt with. They were all but oblivious to the auras of hate and disapproval emanating from Gwendle and Walterona. After several uncomfortable minutes, it was still unclear which ones notions won out, or even if they were different from one another at all. Slowly, they just left, nothing more needed be discussed.

*****

Saralegui stared across the rippling expanse of sea, watching the waves swell and die ever so rhythmical. The beauty was unmatched, and he frowned. He was going to the Great Demon Kingdom, to visit his friend, the Demon King himself; he ought to be happy. He wasn't.

"Sire," Berias murmured softly, "we have almost arrived." No response, he didn't even lift his gaze. Berias sighed inwardly and walked away. Sara looked on, this was not the kind of visit he was hoping for.

There was no turning back now.

* * *

**Gosh, I'm real sorry it took so long to get this up. I ran into a few bumps while writing this chapter, but I think I've got it all worked out. I think.**

**I need some reviews to get me off my lazy ass to write.**


	4. Update: Adopted story

**Hi everyone! **

**I'm sorry to say that I no longer have the time to write this story, but not to worry! It won't end up in the endless, cruel kennel of abandoned stories on FanFiction. **

**lovesnow3 [** u/1963291/lovesnow3**] will be adopting this story from here on out.**

* * *

**UPDATE:**

**Somehow, the adopted story got deleted. I don't know when it will be back up. Sorry!**


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